Something absolutely incredible has been happening to me recently, something so dangerous, so stimulating, so mind-blowing -- and yet so horribly embarrassing and demeaning -- that I just can't seem to come to terms with it. I guess the only answer is to finally share this with someone, let it all out, despite the considerable humiliation that's bound to cause me.

Well, psychiatry fees being what they are, you're elected to listen. I hope you can handle the story. It's pretty outrageous, to say the least, and it makes for some uncomfortable hearing and telling at times. Frankly, at this point, I don't much care if you can take it or not. After what's been going on here, after my wild, perverse, unbelievable affair with the powerful mistress Big Linda Skrue, it's either unburden myself to a total stranger or go stark raving mad.

See, I've been stuck in a wheelchair for about ten long years.

A most unfortunate accident at the height of my flaming youth robbed me of many things, not the least of which was a normal social life. But finally I found a way to turn my disability to my dubious advantage.

I first met this woman I came to know as 'Big' Linda Skrue when she began to work as my latest Personal Care Aide. She owned a private local home health care agency, and I'd hired her to help me with all things I couldn't manage myself -- bathing, dressing, other personal hygiene.

It was an agreeable situation. I didn't know much about her -- beyond the provocative name -- but she was pleasant enough, competent and professional in every way. And to a terminally deprived case like me, she was really a wet dream to behold, with a smattering of orange freckles, rich, reddish-gold hair and a tall, beautifully stacked body. Yet in a way she was also kind of intimidating.

There was something about her, something beyond her strong arms, her unbelievably full, heavy breasts and firmly muscled six-foot frame. Maybe it was in the way she carried herself -- such confident poise, such a challenging look and stance. It made me wonder if there was anyone -- anyone at all out there -- that was truly man enough for her.

Now I had no illusions about myself. I'm a good enough looking guy, and fully capable where it really counts, but there's always this damn wheelchair. Not many women are open-minded enough to look beyond it and give me a try. In fact, by the time I met this gorgeous Linda Skrue, my confidence had been so battered by the endless string of rejections that I never quite had the guts to make a move on her. Yet she must have known how much I wanted her. She worked in daily proximity with my naked body, after all, and some truths just can't be hidden. Practically every time she'd bathe me, I'd quickly swell into a massive, throbbing erection.

Wherever you are, Big Linda, I'm sorry. It was impossible not to.

Leaning over me in the bathtub, with her bra-less, unfettered breasts swaying and bouncing in my face, Linda's sweet, musky scent and strong sure hands turned me on so much that I thought I'd lose my mind. Before long my obstinately unthinking cock was hardened into a bony rope of muscle, straining up above the soapy surface of the water like the one-eyed snout of a blindly questing leviathan.

How totally embarrassing.

Completely professional, both of us tried to ignore it, yet Linda's bored, easy indifference as she scrubbed the soapy wash mitt around and around my hard, throbbing genitals only magnified my desperation.

Didn't she even care how hot I was? Couldn't she tell how much I needed someone, anyone, to rescue me from my unwilling sexual isolation? Couldn't she sense how much I was willing to give in return, even to my despoiler? I don't know. All I know is that what happened next seemed somehow inevitable.

By the time she'd finished washing me up and go to make the bed, 'Big' Linda (as I began to think of her) would invariably have me so hot and hard and horny and all worked up that I was eager for any opportunity, however slim, to ease my intense frustration. After all, I hadn't been laid in nearly ten years, and here was this Amazon dream of a personal care aide, calmly ministering to my helpless naked body.

Well, a man can stand only so much. Lounging there, alone in the hot, steamy bathtub, it was just too easy to lie back and let my fingers do the walking. Somehow I ended up jerking myself off nearly every day.

Of course, given the limited nature of my privacy these days, I suppose Linda catching me engaged at this auto-play was also inevitable. It should have been no surprise at all when she eventually walked in on me. But it must have been quite a surprise indeed, at least for her. There I was -- gasping, panting, even moaning out her name as I gripped and pulled and pumped on myself.

What an incredibly devastating, deeply humiliating experience! I still don't know how to adequately explain its effect on me. All I know is that my eyes were closed on a glorious vision of 'Big' Linda's wildly heaving breasts, and I was so absorbed in a wonderful fantasy of fondling them and fucking them and then creaming wetly all over them that I wouldn't have heard the world end, much less the bathroom door open.

Totally oblivious, panting and moaning and frantically working myself, I beat my little man-meat like a maniacal machine, splashing and moaning and burning my eager way towards orgasm. Then, just as I helplessly groaned out "Ohhhhhh god, fuck me, Big Linda...." I suddenly realized that she was standing there, framed in the doorway and watching me masturbate expressionlessly. What happened then was more surely fate than the accident that robbed me of my legs.

Humiliation and arousal somehow became inextricably mixed, an erotic alchemy that was at once both weirdly perverse and powerfully compelling. The sudden, guilty shock of my discovery shamed me into an immediate orgasm, one so powerful in intensity that I could hardly believe it. My balls seemed to clench, pulsing perceptibly as they delivered their load, and I cried out, clamping down hard on my bulging red cock-gun and stupidly trying to suppress the inevitable.

No chance. What I call 'the happy seed' was too eager for release, bursting forth through my fingers and spurting out hot and wet and spunky all over my hand and chest and belly even as Linda stood there calmly watching me.

Well.

After that I could only sprawl there, panting and blushing as we stared at each other. But instead of sneering or coloring with embarrassment herself, Linda finally just nodded down at me, saying coolly "Good. 'Big Linda'. I like that. From now on I don't want you to call me anything else. And I didn't know you could do that." She gestured at my come-splattered middle, my spent, deflating cock, and her eyes turned suddenly inward.

For a still, mesmerizing moment she was silent, her expression unreadable. Then she said, almost to herself, "You know, I could use you."

She stood there quietly, contemplating, then came back to the present. Looking down at me strangely, she continued, "I have these urges, you see.

"Sometimes I wake up, all alone and incredibly horny in the middle of the night, with the overwhelming urge to do things with a man ... to do things to a man ... that most men simply can't accept."

"All alone and lonely, helpless in bed, and I've got the key... I could just come in here any night I want, and use you any way I want. Couldn't I? I could just fuck you up and down and eight ways to Sunday, and there isn't a damn thing you'd do about it. Is there? Because you obviously want me. Don't you?"

"I want you!" I gasped out immediately, and she smiled wickedly down at me, her cold blue eyes narrowing as she gauged the depth and extent of my reflexive, instinctive submission to her size, her beauty, her inherent sexual power. Then, obviously satisfied with what she saw, Big Linda Skrue made her decision.

"I am going to use you," she said, slowly and derisively. "Hard. I'm going to use you so hard, in so many ways ... From now on, you're just going to be my own, private little sex toy!" A gloating sneer claimed her full, pinkish-red lips, exposing shiny teeth.

"I should have thought of this before! Here you are, a full-grown man, and practically as helpless as a baby! Oh, I've been waiting a long time for something like this, little man. A hell of a long time! Now I'm gonna have me some big-time fun!"

I squirmed at hearing this, and Big Linda laughed scornfully at the growing unease of my expression. Then she continued. "I am going to make you pay for being male, mister cripple! And I don't just mean your health care contract!

"In fact, as of tomorrow morning, I'm going to put one of my helpers on your case, rather than bothering with you myself. I've got a feeling that from now on I'll be at home sleeping in all day instead of working, resting up from my busy nights! Because you can bet your pansy little ass they're gonna be busy!

"I'm gonna show your worthless, pathetic little male self all the incredible things a hot, motivated woman like me can do! You're gonna be my sex-slave, my slut, my helpless little whore! I'm going to work out every outrageous, outlandish fantasy I've ever had on you, and you're just going to have to deal with it however you can. Got that? Tonight and every night from now on. So I hope you like it rough, little sex toy. I'm gonna have some unbelievable fun playing with you! Now, clean up that mess yourself!"

With that Big Linda flung the terrycloth washglove she usually wielded so expertly herself directly atop my come-splattered cock. Then she stepped back and slammed the bathroom door, leaving me sitting there, flabbergasted.

I couldn't believe it. Employer and employee, somehow our positions had become completely reversed. Suddenly she was the one who held all the power. In my stunned daze I looked down, and saw at once the reason why.

All unconsciously, Big Linda's dire promises -- threats, almost -- had me swelling once again into stiff, rigid readiness. Before long my stupid cock thrust straight up into the air, effortlessly tenting out the heavy, wet washcloth.

What the hell was going on here? How could I be so achingly hard, after just coming so explosively? And why wasn't I terrified, suddenly giving up power to this strange, unpredictable woman? I had no idea what I was getting into, but after so many years of involuntary celibacy, it was undeniable that Big Linda'd managed to strike quite a chord. Whatever she had planned, whatever kinky, decadent excesses she had in mind, part of me, at least, seemed eager to learn. And learn I would...

Visit Two: Turning the Tables

Well, I'd been warned. That's about all I can say about the ordeal I was facing. Mistress had told me -- warned me -- that she had things to do to me. Unbelievable things. But I guess my imagination just wasn't the equal of Big Linda Skrue's depravity.

Of course, at that point how could it be? I wasn't yet then the man(?) I am now. My inevitable transformation into pointless sexual plaything was just beginning. As yet I had no idea how low I could go. But I'd learn soon enough. Although this was only the second night of our incredible sexual affair, it was an occasion that would forever establish the future tenor of my twisted relationship with Big Linda Skrue.

Things were starting to happen between my mistress and me that would alter my life forever. Another profound, fundamental reversal of position was imminent, a further transfer of power from me to her that would open yawning, psychic trap doors into depths of personal domination I'd wish had remained forever closed.

Following a pattern set just the day before, it was again the darkest depths of the middle of the night when I suddenly heard the front door slam open. Startled I called out, but there was no response to my cries but the sharp, heavy tread of boots in the hallway.

I strained hopelessly to move, but was only able to shift my arms, shoulders and upper body. Then Big Linda Skrue stepped into the room, and as she turned to confront me I saw the flash of steel-studded collars above the neck and below the cuffs of her long, heavy leather overcoat. Immediately my heart began pounding, and I felt a paralyzing mix of dreadful fear and desperate, uncontrollable desire. I couldn't have moved if I was able as she slowly unbelted the coat and shrugged it to the floor.

In the dim light from the hallway I saw at first just the savage gleam of her burning eyes and bared teeth. Then, dropping my gaze past her spiked collar and down the tall length of her sculpted, statuesque body, I caught my breath.

Big Linda was completely naked -- except for the aforementioned collars, of course, and a tight, complex harness of black leather straps.

Wickedly spiked and studded all over, it supported and separated her huge breasts, as well as looping around her back, shoulders, waist and crotch. Buckles and rings glimmered in the faint light, and a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs hung at her waist, jingling and jostling another long, dark object that hung there as she approached.

I felt a thrill of fear as I thought I recognized it (what possible use could she have for one of those?), and then she was upon me, ripping away the blankets and exposing my helpless, naked body to the night.

I hadn't seen or heard from her since the morning before, when she left me pan-handled and naked and once again dutifully jerking myself off, yet she barely acknowledged me. Without a word she climbed straight atop my crippled form, effortlessly subduing my feeble struggles and capturing my hands.

As if I wasn't already helpless enough, Big Linda quickly and professionally cuffed me, ignoring my whimpered pleas as she locked my wrists together and secured them high above my head. Then she leaned back, hands on her hips, staring down at me silently, with her huge tits heaving and her panting breath hissing excitedly between her teeth.

I had only a moment to taste the strange, exciting new thrill of my bondage, and then suddenly Big Linda dropped atop me, her body writhing frantically, hips twisting and grinding and roughly pumping against me as she simultaneously thrust her huge, firmly strapped and supported breasts against my face.

Oh, man! Hands found the back of my head, twining in my hair and pulling me forward into that enveloping chest with savage pressure. Warm, firm, taut big breasts squashed my cheeks, burying me in the press of that gloriously resilient flesh. Crushed and ravished beneath that beautiful big body, I could see little but the shiny, red-golden fall of her hair that draped itself around us in a silky, undulating curtain. And still Big Linda man-handled me around, pumping and writhing and working herself against me in the first, urgent frenzy of her need.

After a moment, I noticed that in her frantic squirming and pumping Big Linda was gradually nudging my legs apart, forcing them open beneath her until she lay between, where she began rubbing and pumping her strap-clad self against my naked body in earnest. Yet that wasn't the only change. The circular, grinding friction she'd previously been generating was now replaced by a more straightforward, up-and-down vertical rocking motion, and soon I realized that she was actually humping me.

Huh?

Driven by whatever strange, unexplained need brought her to my bed in the middle of the night, Big Linda Skrue lay atop my helplessly straddled body, anchoring my upper half in her embrace and grinding her mons veneris forcefully, rhythmically up into my open crotch. Holding me down, further spreading my useless legs wider and wider, she grunted and snarled and roughly rubbed herself off on me.

What an incredibly strange, unexpected sensation! It was unlike anything I was prepared for, and I was stunned into enjoying it.

So this was how it felt: being taken, being used, being the one on the bottom! Soon I was really getting off on it, loving the butchy, masculine way that Big Linda used her magnificent body's considerable weight and strength against my own pinned and helpless form. But then when she heard my moans of joy, Mistress suddenly paused in her labors and rose up, looming over me in the dark.

With her strong shoulders squared and her basketball-sized breasts silhouetted from behind she looked imposing indeed, and my heart pounded with a delicious trepidation as I lay there, awaiting my Big Mistress Linda's desire.

What would it be tonight? More ridicule, tit-flogging, humiliating masturbation? Would she suck me off maybe, or would I taste her surely unbelievably sweet pussy? Better yet, instead of just riding my face, would she at last lower herself, and finally deign to fuck me? Seconds ticked away as I lay there speculating, and then suddenly I thought of Big Linda last night, and my endless, wickedly enforced efforts at masturbation.

I remembered my mistress mocking me as I played, and warning me against wishing for her to fuck me -- implying that the greatest of my desires would eventually prove to be my undoing. Then, as these disquieting thoughts flashed suddenly across my mind, I heard an ominous click, as Mistress slowly, deliberately unhooked the object that hung at her side and held it up between us.

With a gasp of shock and recognition I saw that it was a shiny black dildo, big and thick and wickedly ridged, sporting a life-like head and a complex web of upraised veins traveling the entire length of the heavy, upcurved shaft.

"That's right, Slut-boy," she said ominously, "I'm going to take you. I've always wanted to show one of you brutish male bastards how it feels, and you're the perfect candidate -- totally helpless. I told you I had things to do to you -- unbelievable things. But I don't think you quite got the picture. So I'm going to spell it out. I'm going to pound my long, black, nine-inch dick right into you. See?" She held it up, sneering at me, and began to chant in her derision.

Big Linda laughed grimly, brandishing her giant dick. "You wanted to get fucked, huh? You wanted me to fuck you? Well okay, Slut-boy. You're going to live up to your new name. I'm gonna fuck you. And I'm gonna fuck you hard. I'm gonna strap on this cock and fuck you until you cry and scream and beg me for more! So get ready, you little slut. Here it comes!"

I shook my head at this in hopeless denial, watching as Big Linda slowly slid that long, thick cock deep up inside her. Twisting it around and around and liberally lubricating it with her own sweet juices, she finally withdrew it and somehow snapped it onto the harness at her crotch. Then she moved in close, that massive black cock-club jutting frighteningly forward.

Oh my god.

What had I done, letting this woman inside my defenses? At last I could taste to the dregs the hopelessness of my condition, the horror of being able to completely feel my lower limbs and body but not command them. What defense had I against the weapon that sprouted from Big Linda's groin? I couldn't even cross my useless legs.

Paralyzed indeed by more than just dread, I couldn't tear my eyes off it as she approached, struggling fruitlessly as she positioned herself, propping up my docile hips, then lifting and spreading my accommodating legs to their widest possible access. Watching the bulbous black head of my doom approach, I squirmed to the pit of my cowardly male soul.

Terrified, repulsed -- and yet still, in some queer way deeply excited -- I whimpered and begged appeasingly, pleading with Big Linda not to do this to me. But of course she ignored me completely, pausing only to fondle and caress my swollen member and tingling balls before moving her hands lower to open me up and guide it in.

She took me then, grinning wickedly down at my utter helplessness as she thrust forward, filling me up with her painfully large prick.

Ahhhhhh, goddess! I cried out, fighting her brutal invasion, but she was implacable, slowly withdrawing from me only to push forward more firmly, forcing herself further, deeper up my tight little ass.

God damn her! Handcuffed and crippled, helpless and humiliated like never before, I lay struggling in shame beneath my pitiless, utterly dominant mistress, enduring while she violated me. Soon she was vigorously pumping her hips, kneeling above me and building up a thrusting, stabbing rhythm. Every potent stroke speared deeper, until at last her shapely hips were slamming up into me, rocking the immovable object of my captive body with the unstoppable force of her incredibly powerful thrusts.

Unbelievable. Big Linda Skrue grinned down at me, panting with exertion, and with her big round breasts bobbing and jiggling between her strong, muscular arms, her prying hands held my butt-cheeks spread firmly open, gaping wide to receive each of those deep, penetrating stabs.

What a cruel, potent, indomitable mistress! Fearsomely gorgeous in her dog collars and studded loops of harness, Big Linda maintained a mocking eye contact all the while she fucked me, forcing me to personally acknowledge the humiliating reality of the circumstances. Naturally enough, my own blushing cheeks burned with shame, yet strangely the rest of my involuntary response was totally contrary to what you might think. Despite the fundamental violation of my masculinity, despite (or alas, maybe because of) my extremely humiliating subjugation, I suddenly felt my strange, submissive compulsion come roaring to life.

Holy SHIT! Now this was being dominated! This was being on the bottom with a vengeance! What more telling expression of Big Linda's power over me could there possibly be?

Before long my low, groaning response to Big Linda's thrusting hips and raping cock began to take on a crooning note of pleasure, and instead of struggling to bring my unresponsive legs together, I found myself straining just as hard to spread them wider. Still she worked it up into me, pumping harder, faster, spearing up into the secret center of my body like a merciless invader.

Eventually I could no longer hide my reluctant arousal, and Big Linda finally noticed my bobbing, swollen erection, heard the uncontrollable moans and gasps of pleasure that burst from my lips, and she began to taunt me mercilessly as she pounded her hard length into me.

"Look at you!" She hissed. "You faggy, piggy little boy-slut! You love it, don't you? You love having me fuck you! Don't you? Slut-boy! I knew you'd earn that name! I'm never going to call you anything else now! Slut-boy! Slut-boy! SLUT-BOY! You like my hard cock, don't you? You love it! Take it then, damn you! Take it deep, high up into your tight little ass! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Do you feel that? Huh? Do you feel what it's like to be fucked, fucked so hard you can't stand it, and yet you're still begging for more? Take it then, Slut-boy! Take this! And this! And this!"

Punctuating her cries with especially hard, vicious thrusts, Big Linda Skrue stabbed it up into me, grabbing and rubbing my quivering balls as she did so. "You want it, don't you?" she accused, squeezing my hard cock as she continued to slam it up into me. "Admit it, you bastard! Beg me for it, damn you! Beg!"

I shook my head in horror at this ultimate degradation, but Big Linda would not be denied, slapping me, cursing me, raging at me to beg her for the shameful pleasure of her stiff, violating cock. Finally she pulled it almost all the way out of me, demanding "Beg me, you fucking piece of shit, or I'll stop!" Then she gently nudged the head of her hard prick in and out of my aching and now hungry hole, cruelly teasing me with it.

This was too much, and I gave in to the inevitable, crying "Okay, okay, fuck me, fuck me hard! I love it, I do! Please, fuck me Big Linda! Fuck me up the asshole hard!"

Then at last my Big Mistress Linda took pity on me, perhaps rewarding my shameless acceptance of her violation, and in addition to pounding herself brutally in and out and in and out of my tight little ass, she suddenly grabbed my stiff prick sticking so straight up in front of her and began pumping on it in equal time with the urgent rhythm of her butt-stabbing strokes.

Oh man, I almost swooned it felt so good!

Her hard cock slammed up into me, continuing my incredibly demeaning and demoralizing subjugation, simultaneously jiggling my tight, swollen balls with their load of come until they jizzed and jazzed with a nearly uncontrollable need for release. But now both of her strong, firm hands also gripped my engorged purple dick tightly, pulling back against the force of her rhythmic strokes and increasing her fucking leverage considerably.

With the lucky benefit of my uncircumcised prick, this had the incredible effect of jerking me rapidly up and down and up and down in a painfully hard clench, my burning bone slipping delightfully back and forth and back and forth within a thin sheath of tightly squeezed flesh.

Sweet Jesus, I didn't know if I was male or female or both here, and didn't much care. All I knew was that I was out of my mind with ecstasy. Finally it was too much, and I think I screamed aloud -- I'm not quite sure -- as I at last felt an unstoppable volcano boil up through my throbbing, straining, hugely swollen cock. But before my semen could spray out of me in those familiar, powerfully pumping spasms of pure pleasure, Big Linda's pounding thrusts into my ass finally climaxed in a supreme, spearing frenzy.

Releasing my shuddering cock at the penultimate moment, she dropped suddenly towards me, catching herself with her hands and propping herself up on palms and toes in order to get her entire weight behind every unbelievable stroke. Then she began hammering away in earnest.

Sliding out to the tip of the head and then slamming back into the base again and again and again, she delivered such a frantic succession of such incredibly deep, painfully driving dickthrusts that I know I screamed and screamed and screamed aloud my uncontainable pain and pleasure. Meanwhile my wildly laboring prick finally exploded, merging invasion with orgasm at last and spraying us both with thick, copious gobs of my hot and creamy sperm. Only after every last drop dribbled out did the amazing B'Linda Skrue finally collapse atop me, exhausted from her energy expenditure.

Her hard prick still filled me though, and the pressure of her heavy breasts squashed against me was pleasant. Nevertheless, all I could do was pant and fight for breath, basking in the afterglow of the most incredible sexual experience of my life. But eventually she stirred, slowly sliding out of me.

Apparently satisfied at last, Big Linda Skrue rose from the bed of my defilement and removed the long rubber dildo that had given me such painful pleasure. She returned it to her belt, unlocking the handcuffs on my wrists and doing likewise with them. Then, leaving me spread open wide and wet with sweat and semen, she got into her coat and without another word slipped quietly from the house.

As I said before, unbelievable. Just as she'd promised, of course. Yet what about me? What about my own unbelievable response? Squirming, I tried to shut off all thought of it. Unwilling to more than obliquely confront what had happened to me, I lay there, exhausted, caressing my aching, violated body. Then I began to wonder what would happen when B'Linda Skrue inevitably returned.

B'Linda's First Interlude: My Own Little Toy

Lately I've been having the most exciting time with this guy I know -- I can't believe he actually puts up with it. Ever since I caught him jerking off one day he's been completely at my mercy. The best part of it is, he used to be my boss! I was actually afraid he'd cancel my contract. But after our first night or two together I knew I had nothing to worry about. There's absolutely nothing I can do to him that wouldn't make him just fall on his face and beg me for more.

It's pretty obvious why, of course. He's been living in a state enforced celibacy for years, letting his perverted little imagination run riot. The poor little fuck reminds me of a kid in a candy store with no nickel in his pocket, left to conjure up his gratification with nothing more than impotent images. After five or ten years of that, who knows what he's had to think about in order to get his rocks off. Then again, who cares? I certainly don't. The only thing that matters here is that he's twisted and desperate, and with his sick little needs, he's like sexual silly-putty in my inventive hands.

I can literally do anything to him I want. First I like to sneak into his bedroom, late in the middle of the night, and take him by surprise, leaping onto his bed and totally, completely dominating him sexually. Always forcing him to service me wherever and however I goddamn please, I play with him for hours, constantly making him submit to all kinds of outrageously kinky things.

Of course, I've got to look the part of a demon dominatrix, so usually I dress up in this harness of tight leather straps, my big 44-DD tits just bursting out of it, and I wear silver-studded collars on my neck and wrists. Then I put on spike-heeled boots and my black leather overcoat and stride over there, kicking in his door and suddenly snapping on the light.

I love the way his shy brown eyes jerk open, starting in shock and fear and then widening in uneasy recognition. Immediately I tear off my overcoat, and as his eager gaze fastens on my huge, out-thrust beasts, I feel a familiar rush of power surge through me. He is mine! The way his eyes crawl greedily over my body I know he can never refuse me.

I spring forward, ripping off the blankets, and already his fat little piece of meat is twitching, swelling. For now I ignore it though. Time enough for that later.

"Big Linda, please...." he manages, and then I'm upon him, straddling his body and dropping my weight on his belly. He gasps, and before he can begin to recover I grab him by the hair and bury his face in my tits.

He struggles under me, thrashing about a little bit, but I crush him down and start twisting my shoulders violently back and forth, beating him into submission with my swinging, slapping, heavily hanging female breasts.

Trapped under my powerful body he starts whimpering and pleading with me, his voice muffled but its groveling tone unmistakable. Yet still his disobedient cock continues to grow, climbing the inside of my thigh to press insistently up against me.

That impudent bastard! I pull back, and clamping his head in my hands I rub one of my stiffly hardened nipples all over his face, roughly grinding it around and around before finally forcing open his jaws and pushing it between his waiting lips.

"Suck me!" I demand, and he complies, immediately pulling at my tender, swollen pink nipple for all he's worth. Much as I hate to admit it, he's actually kind of good at it.

Of course I give him none, and tearing my tit from his jaws I scramble up his body to squash my aching cunt down into his helpless face. There I ride him, holding fistfuls of his hair and rasping myself back and forth and all around, barely giving him a chance to breathe. Finally I settle on his mouth and let him eat me, but the eager, fumbling way he goes about it fills me with scorn.

It's obvious my little Slut-boy here still has a thing or two to learn. Well, I'm just the woman for that! Big Mistress Linda can always provide strict indoctrination into the art of oral sex! First I start taunting him, berating him for his inadequacy, and the guilty blush of his shame gets me off like nothing else. That childish little pansy. Suddenly my cunt feels like voracious mouth, eager to devour his face.

Fuck teaching him anything else. I decide to just use him. That's what he's there for, right? Just a worthless little sex toy. Let him learn on his own, if he's able. If not, let him suffer the consequences.

I push his head back, deep into the pillow, and start rubbing myself off on his jutting chin. That hard knob of bone is covered with stubble, and it rasps and chafes and tickles my burning clit like mad. Then I just go nuts, attacking him with my pussy, using him like I do my cheapest vibrator. Back and forth, up and down, I grind my groin against his helpless face, slathering him with my sticky juices until I just can't stand it anymore. Then at last I turn to his worthless prick.

By this time it's swollen into an iron-hard spike, sticking up from his crotch like an eight-inch exclamation point. Finally, after extensive teasing more than a little sadistic procrastination I mount it, inserting it in one of my open holes and jamming myself down.

Slut-boy cries out, drowning my own little gasp of pleasure, and I slap him as I fuck him, again and again, letting him know who's boss. Meanwhile my hips quickly find their rhythm, and I drop forward, planting my hands on his shoulders and dangling my tremendous tits in his face. Then, firmly holding him down, I ride that hot spike of flesh furiously, gasping and grunting and groaning with pleasure, feeling my first orgasm of the night building.

At last it rips through me, and suddenly I find myself screaming deliriously, mindlessly riding out the ecstatic waves of contractions that pulse through my loins. Dimly I hear the worthless little shit trapped under me cry out, and as my tight cunt convulses on it the hard cock I'm riding suddenly starts spasming and shuddering, then spurts out a slippery hot load, deep up inside me.

That goddamn bastard! Furiously I scream at him, venting my rage with a powerful roundhouse slap. He isn't supposed to come until I tell him to, damn it! I wanted that whitey-tasty-gooey-hot-salt-load!

I strike him again, literally rocking his head, and then climb off. That fucking loser. That useless piece of shit. Luckily I now know how to punish that kind of transgression. By confronting the worthless offender with his very worst nightmare.

You see, after years of intense sexual study, I've believe I've finally found the secret to controlling a man.

Whether dealt out occasionally as a rare reward or inflicted daily as a regular punishment, this particular disciplinary tool draws its effectiveness from the devastating truth it conveys: that despite his terrifying fears, every last man secretly yearns to be the recipient, not the giver, of a good invasive fuck.

It's true. Don't even try to deny it. I can see it now in Slut-boy's conflicted face. Deep in their hearts, all men know that the ancient, planet-dominating force embodied in their dicks is basically useless and pathetic without the even greater miracle of a human woman's fertile furrow.

You see, we are the givers of life, holders of the most incredible power in the universe. Men know this, and despite all their earthly dominance they yearn for it. Subconsciously they yearn for it so bad they can't resist trying to emulate it. Sooner or later they love having that big hard dick directed right back at them. Why do you think there are so many faggots in the world?

The philosophy of Big Linda Skrue in a nutshell. Oh well. Determined to re-teach an old lesson, I go my coat, and from an inside pocket I take my favorite black rubber dildo, long and thick and heavily ridged with life-like veins and contours.

Relishing the look of fear and horror on Slut-boy's guilty face, I attach my big hard god-cock securely to the harness at my crotch and return to the bed.

"You know the penalty for an unauthorized orgasm!" I snarl. "Roll over!"

And with that I move in and really show my Slut-boy what it means to be fucked!

Visit Three: On the Cutting Edge

Oh my god, somebody please help me. Last night was easily either the best or the worst experience of my life. I'm still trying to figure out which.

At shortly after 2 a.m. the door once again crashed open, wrenching me from a sound sleep and into heart-pounding wakefulness. There stood the mistress Big Linda Skrue, framed in the doorway, her hands braced upon her hips. I knew what she wanted -- in general, at least -- and I gasped as I saw the latest result of her endlessly inventive need.

Her long, wonderfully shiny red-golden hair was tucked up into a crisply billed army cap, and mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes. Yet the haughty, imperious sneer on her beautiful face was far from the most intimidating thing about her. The rest of her outrageous get-up was straight out of some poor enslaved submissive's worst-case wet-dream fuck-fantasy.

Besides her tightly laced combat boots, she wore little but an outsized army fatigue jacket, open down the front. The tough cloth stretched tightly around her generous curves, and the sagging, revealing open deliciously exposed the ripe, swelling globes of her enormous breasts.

The khaki sleeves were also ripped off, exposing Big Linda's heavy biceps, and a web belt cinched it at her waist. Shocked and immediately demoralized, I nevertheless noticed a wicked array of objects dangling from the belt: handcuffs and shackles, a limber leather riding crop, the usual assortment of dildos, of course, and there, sheathed at her side, a long, wide-bladed bayonet.

Holy shit. Despite a stubborn twitching below the waist I groaned to myself.

Now what? Now what strange, twisted perversity was in store for me? I had no doubt that I'd accept it -- what else could I do? -- but by now I was beginning to fear for my sanity. Really, how would I ever be able to live normally again, after the extremes Big Linda drove me to? But as usual my brutal blonde dominatrix gave no sign of her evil intent. She merely stood there, scowling down at me, and then stepped deliberately into the room.

Approaching the bed, Big Linda stripped away the covers with one practiced sweep of her arm and immediately set about securing my helpless body. She slapped cuffs on my wrists and ankles, spreading my arms and legs wide and shackling them to the bed's four corners. When I was at last stretched tightly out, spread-eagled and securely chained, without any slack or possibility of movement at all, she moved in, looming ominously over me. Finally I mustered the nerve to break the silence, but I got no further than the first word.

"What..." I began, and Big Mistress Linda stopped me instantly, with a stinging roundhouse slap that immediately numbed my cheek and brought tears to my eyes with its bruising force.

"Silence!" she shrieked. "Prisoners do not speak unless ordered to!"

Stars spun in my head, and with my shocked face twitching and tingling and then suddenly flaming with delayed pain I bit my lip, trembling, while she looked me deliberately up and down. Finally her attention fastened on my stiffly upright rod, and she seized it in a painfully tight grip.

My plump purple plum jutted from her enclosing fist like a pulsing heart, and the death grip she had on me was exquisitely arousing. Searching in vain for my voice I merely groaned, unable to understand or articulate my helpless response.

When I was slow to answer she jerked on me, pulling the monster -- as I humbly call it -- painfully up and back and down until it pointed straight between my splayed apart feet. "Speak!" she demanded.

"Well if it my prick," Big Linda snapped right back, "What the hell is it doing hard without my permission?"

I could only shake my head, unable to answer, and that was when she drew the knife, 12 inches of cold, gleaming steel, and my heart leaped immediately into my throat.

"Well!" She snarled again. "Since you don't know, and since it's my prick, maybe I'll just cut it right the fuck off! Prisoners are not allowed to have hard-ons without my permission!"

With that she pulled down harder against my straining upthrust curve, exposing the vein-marbled root, and with an eager growl of excitement she put the cool, keen edge of her blade to the base of my blood-filled member.

Naturally I thrashed against my bonds, fruitlessly seeking escape, but of course it was useless. I was chained out as taut as a violin string.

Oh man! Just like before, the incredible, delicious thrill of my bondage was exquisitely arousing to me, making my predicament ever so much worse. Nevertheless I burst forth with a flood of pleas and cries, begging Big Linda not to take my humble manhood. Somehow I sensed that maybe this wasn't a game, that maybe this time she actually meant to hurt me, and I begged and whimpered and groveled uncontrollably, caught up in pure, heart-freezing terror. Yet in spite of this fear, or perhaps indeed because of it, my desperately perverted arousal grew even greater than ever before.

My thick, back-bent, hugely swollen erection burned against the cold steel of the bayonet blade, and it throbbed so powerfully that it surely would have been cut had her strong grip not held it firmly. Meanwhile the rest of my groin boiled with desire, and that potent sensory fire drove all coherent thought from my head. Yet somehow my frantic, desperate pleas caught Big Linda's attention, and she paused, looking down at me scornfully.

"What, you value this worthless little piece of meat?" she sneered.

"You want to keep it? Well you just admitted that it's mine. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just cut it right off and cram it down your fucking throat!"

Needless to say, I racked my spinning brain, trying desperately to think of a way to save my manhood. Unfortunately, Big Linda Skrue's sharp, deadly bayonet was lightly, teasingly tracing circles around my turgid prick and tingling balls, making it almost impossible to think. Then abruptly she snapped, "Time's up!" and pulled the monster back even harder, stretching out its neck and once again exposing the root. As she placed the heavy blade's razor edge to my skin, my mental paralysis immediately broke.

"No!" I cried, "Wait, I know, I know, I can use it on you!"

I was babbling, terrified. "I will, I will, I will, B'Linda, I promise! Please, B'Linda, please, use me, use my body like you always do!"

Tempted in spite of herself, Big Linda paused, still holding the blade against me, and said, "What, this thing? You think you can satisfy me with this? Never!"

Again she bent to her task, squeezing me tighter and preparing to sever my swollen manhood in one quick stroke. Screaming and thrashing, straining my thews to the limit but wholly unable to move a muscle against the taut chains, I tried one last time.

"Oh God, Big Linda no! I swear, you will come so hard, so many times, please, just give me a chance!"

Mercifully she paused again, her biceps flexing as she gripped the knife, considering. Then finally she answered, biting off her words viciously.

"All right, prisoner. You'll get your chance. You've got until dawn. I'll try this pathetic little cock, and the rest of you, too. But if I'm not totally, totally satisfied, if I don't have the best fucking night of my entire sex life, off it comes!"

She sheathed the knife in one fluid motion, releasing my throbbing prick.

At once it shot back up to its original forward-straining curve, and I almost fainted in my relief. I had until dawn to satisfy this most voracious, formidable Amazon, but it wasn't going to be easy. That became clear right away.

Big Linda Skrue attacked immediately, hitching up the skirt of her shirt and taking her usual position astride my face. Determined to save myself I went straight to work, eating her pussy out like never before. I serviced that woman like a man possessed, and by the sound of Big Linda's breathless panting and moaning I was finally learning the trick of it. Soon she started rocking herself back and forth, rudely humping me with her crotch, roughly rubbing herself off on me and treating my face like it was merely some kind of cheap erotic toy.

Bound and helpless, sentenced to a savagely intimate mutilation and entirely at Big Linda's mercy, I could only lie there, fighting to snatch a breath now and then, as she roughly twisted and ground and pumped herself into an incredible series of ever more intense, utterly screaming orgasms. And that was just the beginning.

From there she moved to my cock, mounting me and using it with such an urgent, frenzied passion that I couldn't believe she actually intended to slice it off when she was done. Yet who knew? She was as unpredictable as she was demanding, and I knew I had no choice but to believe her threats -- and to perform for her as though my life depended on it. And so I did, on and on, act after twisted sex act, as Big Linda used me for everything her wild imagination and voracious appetite could dream up.

The night became an incredible blur of images: Big Linda, battering me about with her giant breasts; Big Linda, grinding her crotch in my face and ordering me to lick out her nether hole; Big Linda, standing next to the bed, cursing foully and whipping me with her stiff leather riding crop; even Big Linda, propped above me on palms and toes, wielding her long, strapped-on black rubber dildo. But first and last and most of all, from beginning to end, it was Big Linda Skrue riding: riding, riding, riding, mounted high on my achingly hard, painfully erect prick and wildly plunging and bucking her hips.

It was to this timeless, eternal standard that our endless succession of sex acts always came around again. Whether facing forward or back, whether I was lodged in her slick pussy or her tight ass, Big Linda was constantly astride my body, humping and pumping away, always seeking that next orgasm, and the next, and the next, and the next, hour after hour after hour as that endless night crept slowly around toward dawn.

But finally the sky began to lighten, and I knew my time was almost up. Big Linda Skrue noticed too, in the very act of reaming me out once again, and I suddenly felt her stabbing thrusts cease, and her stiff prick slide out of me.

She rose from the bed, that big black cock jutting wickedly forward, bobbing slightly with her movements. Smirking at the fearful way I regarded it, she stood staring ominously down at me, one of her hands toying idly with the knob as she slowly shook her head. "Well, prisoner, it looks like your time is up. It's dawn, and I'm not satisfied. Say good-bye to that worthless little prick!"

What? I gaped at her, stricken. What about all those helpless moans? Those utter, screaming orgasms? What about the savage exhilaration that literally shone from her as she brutally violated me? How could she not be satisfied? Unbelievingly I watched in numb-struck horror as Big Linda Skrue once again drew her bayonet and reached for my still-rigid erection.

Pressing the flat of the blade against my quivering balls, she grinned down at me and said, "You know, I think I just might take these, as well. They're no good to you without a prick, are they? We'll just make you into a sweet, sexy little girl -- if you live, that is."

Incredibly she smiled, a cold, wicked smile full of evil intent. I couldn't believe this was happening, and after the exhaustive night we'd just passed, I didn't have the energy to even try to resist -- useless as that would have been. Hopeless tears began running from my eyes, and I broke down as Big Linda once again pulled me up and back and placed her sharp blade against the root.

"Oh, quit blubbering, prisoner," she sneered down at me, "at least you just had the best sex of your worthless life, and the knife will be quick and clean. Unless...." she paused. "unless you'd rather I used my teeth."

Seeing the look of disbelieving horror on my face, Big Linda Skrue crowed with delight. "Oh yes! I think it would only be appropriate if I bit it off! I'll save the knife for your hairy balls!"

With that she laid the bayonet aside and immediately went down on me.

With her strong, firm hand tightly anchoring the base of my rigid erection, Big Mistress Linda slipped it deftly into her mouth, her lips closing on the pounding purple head with a sensation that was nothing short of heavenly. Then she began bobbing, her thick sweet lips sliding up and down the shaft, taking more and more and more of me with each engulfing stroke.

Holy shit! For the last time in my life, I watched my hotly burning cock gradually disappear from view, as Big Linda Skrue methodically worked to get as far down onto me as possible before biting in and savagely shearing it away.

Dear god, why didn't I go crazy? Overcome by a perverse mixture of terror and lust, I cried out instead in helpless ecstasy. Her strong fist was tightly squeezing and tugging on my balls, and those soft wet lips felt so good sliding on my shaft that I thought my head would explode. Meanwhile my tip rubbed wetly against the back of Big Linda's throat, and perhaps realizing that this was the end, the monster seemed determined to make the most of it. My excited nerve endings sizzled and sang as I slipped further and further down the open gullet of my doom.

And then at last Big Linda was all the way down, with her nose nestled deep in my pubic hair. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a wicked grimace as she prepared to bite. Again I screamed in terror, feeling her sharp incisors clamp down on the root of my penis. But then, just as the ultimate horror seemed finally at hand, my desperate genitals suddenly convulsed. Feeling their end upon them, they exploded into orgasm, erupting and pumping out an incredible flood of thick, sticky semen.

Ribbon after hot, spurting ribbon sprayed down Big Linda's throat, and though her eyes flew wide, she immediately swallowed and swallowed and swallowed it greedily down. Still my thick, precious seed continued to pump out, long after it should have been spent, filling her up even as it emptied me. Big Linda's mouth worked and worked, sucking me out like a water pump, and even when that delicious creamy flow eventually stopped she continued pulling, tightly squeezing my generous prick from the bottom up and milking me of every last delicious drop. But finally she sat up, looking down at me in wonder.

She'd lost the sunglasses at some point, and gone too was the implacable, demanding glare. Her eyes were now filled with a strange mixture of both awe and satisfaction. She licked her lips several times, savoring, and at last she spoke.

"Well, prisoner, I can't believe it, but I think you just won yourself a reprieve. I guess that useless little prick of yours is good for something after all."

With that Big Linda got up, sheathing her knife and going to the head of the bed.

Keys jingled as she removed my shackles, and then she gathered up her things and once again stamped purposefully out the door, leaving me to lie there, alone, gasping out my relief.

Visit Four: Fit to be Tied

I'm going crazy. Literally batshit. I don't know what else to say. Big Linda's midnight visits have become literally mind-blowing. The things she does to me ... I don't think I'll ever be the same again.

How am I ever supposed to go back to my old life, where I don't covet and crave my every minute as a slave? It's gotten so that I long ago gave up any thought of resisting my mistress. She's just so demanding, so forceful, that I've had no choice but to submit completely to her total sexual domination.

Savoring my supreme soul-thralldom, my complete and utter helplessness, Big Linda Skrue never fails takes ruthless advantage of it. Her first act upon bursting in on me is invariably to secure me to the bed, effortlessly subduing my feeble struggles and tightly chaining me up. Then she flings herself atop me, determined to carry out whatever mad sexual fantasy she's dreamed up. Trapped naked with her in that small apartment, chained out spread-eagled and helpless, I spend endless hours submitting to her bizarre, depraved sexual desires.

In fact, depraved hardly begins to describe it. Whatever the circumstances, whatever the perverse, punishing permutation, there are always costumes and games and roles to play; leather and rubber and steel, harnesses and straps, chains and handcuffs, blindfolds and shackles and paddles and whips and executioner's black leather hoods. Good sex for Big Linda is the ultimate exercise of power over a man, regardless of the particulars, and so she's always cruelly merciless, intentionally demeaning me, dominating and subjugating my captive manhood with brutal, iron-fisted control.

Looming over my bound and uselessly struggling form, with her orange-speckled, firmly muscled shoulders and huge, upthrust breasts bulging through her spike-studded leather harness, Big Linda Skrue maliciously rubs my face in my helplessness, vengefully subjecting me to all the conceivable degradations at her considerable command. Naturally I've lost track of all the individual ways in which she abuses me, but just because she's inventive in her demands doesn't mean she ignores the obvious. There are several set pieces she re-enacts over and over again.

Time after time she'll make me replay the humiliating incident that forever established our respective roles: my desperate, lonely masturbation, her derisive discovery of it, then my shock and the sudden, uncontrollable orgasm that spawned all of her subsequent brutal sexual abuse.

This can go on for what seems like hours, but finally, after thoroughly debasing me this way, my mistress eventually tires of this admittedly rather tame sport and chains me back up. Then she takes a more aggressive, straight-forward physical approach to my subjugation.

Straddling my body, Big Linda squares and spreads her muscular shoulders, her spike-gloved hands coming up to heft and cup those heavy tits in a challenging display of their glorious abundance. Then she falls atop me, wrenching my head forward and burying my face in that fleshy embrace.

Twisting her powerful shoulders violently back and forth, she starts beating me about, bludgeoning me with that lush, firmly strapped and supported weight.

On man! Battered and beaten, pummeled by those swinging, slapping, pounding pink globes, I endure this heavenly assault meekly, knowing it's only the beginning. Big Linda's power over me is unlimited, after all, and with its every increasing expression her strange, sadistic compulsion to brutally dominate and subjugate me only grows greater.

Exulting in my humble, servile posture, she flails away for long minutes, thoroughly thrashing me with those massive, womanly tits. Then she immediately scrambles up my body and forces me to perform oral sex on her. Squashing her hot, juicy pussy in my reddened face, Big Linda Skrue will grab both hands full of my long brown hair and make me service her hungry cunt for what seems like hours.

Pinned under her towering body, held motionless while she grinds her crotch against me and growls with pure animal pleasure, I'll humbly lick and suck and tongue and nibble at the fleshy folds of Big Linda's exalted womanhood until I'm completely exhausted. Yet any brief let-up or faulty technique is swiftly punished, with a rough cuff to the head, stinging slaps, or with cruel, hard twists and jerks on my vulnerable sex organs. Eventually she's reduced to actually humping my increasingly raw, red face, burying it in her crotch and vigorously rubbing herself off on it. Yet even when she's finally had enough, when she finally grunts her satisfaction and rudely pushes me away, it hardly even seems a respite.

She'll then turn immediately to my perpetually hard cock, giving it such an endless, tireless workout that it will ache for literally days afterward. Frankly I don't even know how she does it. For hours it's just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Always devising newer motions and rhythms and points of balance, Big Linda Skrue grips me with her well-trained vagina or her firm, tight, muscular asshole and works herself on me like I'm some kind of inanimate exercise machine. Glaring down, with her wide shoulders squared and her huge chest thrust challengingly out, she rides my helplessly spread form furiously, panting and cursing and screaming at me in ceaseless demand.

Fortunately it's a demand I'm usually able to meet. Thanks to the single most beneficial effect of my disability, my perpetual hard-on is an aching constant. As long and hard as Big Linda keeps it up, as violently as she humps and pumps and lunges and plunges away, I still remain completely and respectfully erect. Good thing, too. After this long, I know better than to dare to lose control.

She's always got a suitable punishment waiting, always got a worse way to dominate and subjugate and humiliate my captive manhood. You know what I'm talking about. At least several times a night now Big Linda gloatingly turns the proverbial tables on me, strapping on a long, hard rubber dildo and brutally fucking me right up the ass. And yet still, as I'm just barely learning to admit, even this most intimate invasion eventually manages to get to me.

Regardless of my complete heterosexuality, regardless of the dire, maybe even fatal insult to my manhood, regardless of even what it says about me personally, deep down inside where you'd rather not look, I've somehow found that even submitting to involuntary sodomy has its unnatural appeal.

Even as Big Linda positions a pile of pillows and rolls me over onto it, cuffing my hands behind my back and wrenching apart my helpless legs, even as she spreads my cheeks wide and nudges open my tender, once-virgin butt-hole, I can't help myself from wanting it, needing it. By now this big bad she-bitch has ground me so deeply into submission that even being anally raped with a strap-on dildo becomes an ordeal of sick, masochistic pleasure.

With my burning face and inevitably hard, erect cock mashed into the pillows, feeling the cool breeze caressing my vulnerable ass thrust high in the air, I invariably relish my coming subversion. My hot, hungry hole seems to gape with need, drinking up the little lubrication B'Linda affords me, and I moan with anticipation as she works it in. Then at last Big Linda Skrue mounts me, sliding her hard rubber cock smoothly, deeply up into my open hole.

Ah, heaven. Her pistoning hips quickly build up a relentless, pneumatic rhythm, and my complete and utter prostration stirs awake those strange, deeply rooted needs and hungers I'd rather not acknowledge. Cruelly taken and subjugated, brutally corn-holed by this golden-haired demon, my darkest dreams of dominance and control come violently to life.

Handcuffed and straddled, hard as a rock, I arch my back, eagerly welcoming Big Bad Linda's violent invasion. Moaning and groaning in unconcealed ecstasy, wallowing in a taboo pleasure that would earn me the scorn of almost everyone I know, I can only lie there whimpering and marvel at the extent of my incredible transformation.

This is what I live for now. There's absolutely no question. This is my whole reason for being.

Each painful, spearing thrust of Big Linda's hard, heavy black god-cock forces me deeper and deeper into a final acceptance of my permanent new role: a helpless whipping boy, condemned to suffer for the vile sins of the entire male sex.

After all, it's only what I deserve for harboring such sick, twisted desires in the pit of my pervert soul. Speaking of which, trapped between the soft pillows piled beneath me and my rudely ridden hips, my rock-hard, long-suffering cock still throbs ever more powerfully, betraying the animal urgency of my perverse, overweening lust for emasculation. And still it gets harder, hotter, as Big Linda Skrue starts goading me on, forcing me as ever to acknowledge the incredible extent of my ridiculously degrading, humiliating circumstances.

Slapping me, striking me, she slams up into me harder and harder, shrieking all the while. "Take my cock, you fucking little pig! Take it all! Every inch! Take it like you deserve! You SLUT! You SLAVE! You CUNT-HOLE LITTLE BITCH-PIG-WHORE! You live for this! You and every other worthless, repulsive little pig-slut-male! Admit it! Admit your guilty pleasure! Admit your sick, disgusting little needs! You pervert! You want my big cock! You need it! Don't you! You need to pay for having that dirty, vile little penis, and this is how! Admit it, Slut-boy!"

Big Linda Skrue hammers herself into me, so forcefully that the headboard slams the wall, burying the entire length of her long, black, nine-inch cock deep in my receptive anus. Then she begins rotating her hips, grinding that impaling spike around and around and around, piercing my body to the core and demanding that I beg her for the shameful, exquisite pleasure.

Naturally Big Linda obliges, first pulling almost all the way out of me and then savagely plunging it back in, piercing me with such a deep, brutally sudden thrust that I shrilly squeal out like a stuck little piglet on a skewer. Then she picks up where she so recently left off, hammering her stiff, hard prick cruelly, remorselessly down into my upraised, openly dilated asshole.

Good lord. Panting and screaming and cussing me out, Big Mistress Linda viciously takes my virtue, and as ever the sound of her savage exultation deliciously accentuates my own shameful, burning excitement. Finally, as her pounding thrusts at last climax in a brutal, spearing frenzy, my desperately hot, humiliating arousal suddenly boils completely over at last.

Goaded on by the brisk, rhythmic friction between the soft pillows piled under me and my roughly, rudely ridden body, my pounding, straining, rock-hard cock-head finally forgets everything I've had to painfully learn about restraint. Tingling, burning with an insane sensory fire, it slips back and forth and back and forth against the satiny slope below me until it finally ejaculates explosively in mind-blowing, ball-draining release.

It's the whip, of course, for wasting a precious load of come without my mistress' expressed permission. Yet by now I can hardly regret that transgression. After such a deeply demeaning, emotionally exhausting ordeal, even that kind of strict, corporal punishment has its own rewards.

Lying there, choking on a ball gag, twisting and writhing under the stinging, lashing strokes of Big Mistress Linda's heaviest whip, feeling my skin welt up and even break open in places, I let the intense agony sear the humiliating experiences of the last several hours deep into my being.

After the extreme way I debased myself, there's some perverse part of me that actually needs this pain, craves it, and as she vengefully flails away at me my naked and extravagantly suffering body eventually begins to respond. Soon my spent, wasted little cock begins twitching, then bobbing and growing, and then finally it once again juts proudly into the air, as hard and tall and rigidly erect as a standing stone.

Once again I'm ready for Big Linda Skrue, ready for her to use and abuse me, to rape and fuck me, to take my pathetic, worthless little male body and have her savage, brutal way with it. And of course she always does. That's what B'Linda's midnight visits are all about.

B'Linda's Second Interlude: Predator and Prey

I think I must be both the luckiest and unluckiest girl in the world, and all thanks to one fucked-up guy. It's funny how things work out. Ever since gaining control of my very own sexual pet, some strange, unexpected changes have begun to come over me, changes I could once have only dreamed of.

My name is now 'Big' Linda Skrue, and I've been living up to it with a vengeance. As a bisexual female loner, I've recently developed an extremely healthy -- some might say overactive -- sex drive, and now I'm having some predictable trouble fulfilling my needs.

This probably seems strange to those millions of people who just dream of meeting a woman like me, but I've got a rather unique problem. Thanks to the creature I like to call 'Slut-boy" I now need to totally dominate and even terrorize my partner during sexual intercourse. Not many people -- of either gender or persuasion -- will willingly choose to go along with that.

Lately I've been forced to hunt around for weaker individuals, cutting out from the great herd of people those either unable or unwilling to resist my rather vicious sexual attacks. I suppose if I was a man I'd be locked away in prison, and rightly so, but the bed is the one place a woman can still get away with a little dominance.

Of course, that's just the trouble. I'm not interested in just a little dominance. I now need to make a guy suffer, make him grovel and weep and beg for the incredibly humiliating abuse I heap on him. Like I said before, I've got control of this pet cripple, my own private little sex-toy, and all the outrageous things I've been doing to him recently have totally spoiled my taste for normal, consensual sex. The thrill of domination is just too exhilarating. By now I've got my pet little Slut-boy so fucked-up and twisted around by the perverse ways that I use him that he doesn't even know whether he's coming or going.

I constantly, mercilessly subjugate him, busting into his house, tying him to his bed and tormenting him sexually for hours. Over and over again I strap on one of my big hard cocks and make him play the female part, and even though he's utterly consumed by shame and embarrassment, the little pig comes his brains out every fucking time!

I swear, I can't believe I found him. What a perfectly filthy little pervert. Any other man on the planet would run horrified to the cops after some of the things I've been doing to him, yet he just moans and groans and begs and pleads and whimpers for me to do more, more. I'm starting to wonder just how far I can really go in taking him over. I'm tempted to try re-making his entire personality. Who knows what kind of crazy, kinky thing I can change him into?

Yet still, even as much fun as using this guy is, I've never quite lost my taste for the other flavor. You know what I'm talking about. I also really like to fuck a girl once in a while, especially one who's tender and young and never before been had by a woman.

Now, after repeatedly raping Slut-boy so hard and so many times, I really get off on playing the butch -- finding some sweet, innocent little thing and really putting it into her. I'd be perfectly at home starring in one of those "naked women locked in prison" movies, but things aren't quite so easy in the real world. Instead I'm forced to prowl the college bars, looking for a pretty, sheltered young woman with long-repressed, socially or religiously forbidden longings that I can exploit.

Despite the inevitable obstacles placed by our rather puritan society, it doesn't usually take that long. With my statuesque, muscular, 6-foot-one body I stand right out in any crowd, and my hugely swollen bosom draws disbelieving stares from men and women alike.

Men are invariably covetous -- at least until I get them home -- and I've learned to tell envy from admiration in the women. Now it's the guilty, darting, sidelong glances in the eighteen-year-old, just-away-from-home, had-a-little-too-much-to-drink freshman girls that I look for.

I'll walk right up to some shy, vulnerable-looking girl, and soon my sheer sexual magnetism will capture her. I go out wearing a brazenly skimpy outfit, with high boots and a lot of leather, and the exposure of my huge, womanly breasts generally offsets my rather intimidating size and appearance. After a few beers and a little gentle if straight-forward seduction, my intended prey usually wobbles off her chair or stool and agrees to come home with me.

Of course, once I get her home and get one of my "special" drinks into her, she's as good as lost. Before long her once animated, almost bubbly conversation gets increasingly disjointed and rambling, and her eyes slide lower and lower, lazier and lazier around in her head.

Just before she loses the ability to walk entirely, I help her up and lure her into my newly furnished seduction room. There I force her directly onto the giant, four-poster bed, and any hope of her escape swiftly disappears. She lies there in a barely comprehending daze, mutely watching as I strip down to my tight leather harness and boots, and offers only token resistance as I rip off her clothes.

Nearly panting with lust I ravish her, climbing all over her nubile young body, roughly kissing and fondling and probing at every innocent inch of her.

I go to work in earnest on her, using every weapon in my arsenal, beginning with the most insidious: tenderness.

I slowly, gently caress and massage and oil her entire teen-age treasure, that gloriously smooth, springy, resilient young flesh. Soft, breathtakingly beautiful skin and firm taut muscle are treated to a tune-up they rarely receive, outside of a massage parlor, and as my little honey's hazy reverie deepens I prepare to finally finish up by carefully trimming away the untidy little bush growing at her groin.

I brush off the clippings and then continue, gently oiling and massaging and then lathering up the stubble. By this time my adolescent prey is usually so lost in the bliss of her rub-down that she hardly notices me subtly preparing to shave away her modesty. And indeed my touch is so sure and skilled, and the silver crescent of my razor so sharp and keen, that it hardly tugs at her at all as I smoothly, effortlessly strip away the excess hair.

After that comes a creamy lotion, then more rubbing and massaging, as I at last stroke away even the memory of her unnecessarily evident maturity. Then my caresses slip lower, and deeper, and gradually more fervent, until she slickens up well and her moans betray her. Finally, once I've thoroughly prepared her for me, once I've established my complete and unremitting control over her, I strap on one of my hard rubber dildos and take her.

And oh, mama, that's where the fun really begins! As dazed, drunk, or even reluctantly, dizzily aroused as my prey might be, that sudden thrust of a manly hard cock never fails to bring a shrieking response.

She may only stir and moan, or shudder uneasily when I spread her open and move between her legs, but when my formerly gently caressing fingers and tongue are suddenly replaced by a hard, wickedly stabbing prick, she always screams and thrashes, frantically if ineffectually bucking under my weight and fighting my brutal invasion. Still I hold her down and open and fuck her, pumping my big, hard, nine inch cock deep into her tight, virginal little body like no man ever could.

Looming over her like a goddess, pinning her to the bed, I take my nascent little lesbian and subdue her feeble struggles with the sheer force of my unstoppable assault.

Like I said at the beginning, she really has no chance. I'm just too big, too strong, too deeply imbedded in her closely-shaven, unprotected pussy. Over and over again, I slam relentlessly down into her, grunting and snarling in animal need, and soon she reaches whatever accommodation she can with my brutal onslaught.

Sometimes she lapses disappointingly away into a drugged, drunken stupor, and sometimes she fights excitingly against me, requiring an exhilarating struggle before I finally have my way, but usually she eagerly surrenders the last of her inhibitions and joins in the fun, moaning and flexing and writhing breathlessly beneath me.

Then I know for sure that she's really mine, and I can enjoy spending the rest of the night (and one of these times, just maybe the rest of her life) teaching her all of the wonderful things a motivated woman like me can do for her.

That's an education I relish, of course, no matter who I'm delivering it to, and yet until now it's ultimately been one I've always found a little bit disappointing.

Something necessary just seems to be missing somehow from these encounters. I don't know what it is. I guess maybe that as much as I love to "turn" one of my girls, the fact remains that it's the men out there who really deserve such treatment. That one little disabled man in particular.

So that fucking little Slut-Boy just better watch out. I'm barely getting started on his conversion.

Visit Five: You are what you Eat

This time, for some unfathomable reason of her own, Big Linda Skrue slips silently into my room, foregoing her usual dramatic crashing entrance. Then the first thing I know of her sudden presence is the muted glare of the bedside lamp.

I slit my eyes, protesting, but as they gradually adjust they once again spring wide in shocked recognition. In contrast my impudent mouth snaps immediately shut.

In the soft light, a tracing glimmer of rings and studs and stainless steel spikes gleams off a dog collar, wrist cuffs, and an oiled-leather harness.

That's an outfit I'd recognize anywhere of course, and for more than its tight-fitting array of straps and buckles or the way it cradles such massive, womanly breasts. No, this particular harness -- Big Linda Skrue's harness -- sports more than just spikes and studs and strategically placed iron rings. Already jutting from the armored mound of her pubis is the focus of our mutual obsession: hers to dominate and subjugate, mine to meekly submit.

A black rubber dildo, long and thick and elaborately ridged, curves up and out from Big Linda's crotch at a vicious angle, and I know from painful experience what she plans to do with it.

Dissatisfied with defiling only virginal young lesbians, Big Linda Skrue has also turned to men, forcing us to confront our feminine sides even as she fervently embraces her own latent masculinity. My almost total helplessness makes me an ideal candidate for such brutal attentions, and so a painful, humiliating rape is a virtual certainty. The only question here is how far she means to go in my subversion. Once, threatening to make me into a girl for real, she almost cut off my cock and balls!

This time there's no knife, but that doesn't reassure me. I cringe as Big Linda springs deliberately onto the bed, grinning wickedly. Squirming away in pathetically futile retreat, I shrink back until my head and shoulders begin to climb the heavy headboard.

Immediately she's upon me, and without a word she starts positioning me, propping up my hips with a couple of pillows, raising my knees and spreading my legs as wide as possible. Fumbling at her waist, Big Linda produces two matching sets of tough leather shackles, and lifting my feet high above my head she cuffs each ankle to its corresponding wrist and loops the connecting chains high up over the bedposts.

Uncomfortably contorted, practically rolled into a ball against the unyielding headboard, I strain against the chains, flexing my arms, but with my cuffed hands connected directly to my feet that stupid maneuver only succeeds in lifting and spreading my useless legs even more. Meanwhile the pressure of the headboard cranes my neck sharply forward, holding my head rigidly up and forcing my face deep into my inverted crotch. Quickly this brings me eye to eye with the rapidly swelling length of my extraordinarily long cock.

Big Linda finishes locking me in place, and seeing my growing erection she reaches down and seizes it, pumping on it and taunting me with the obvious fact of my arousal.

This is the way she always is, of course, determined to make me admit, comply, acknowledge the thralldom of my helpless desires. And despite my incredibly humiliating circumstances, despite the brutal indignities that surely await, the goad of her derision sparks the usual shameful, perverse compulsions deep inside me. Soon my traitor prick points stiffly at attention, the fat purple cap only inches away from my captive face.

Momentarily satisfied Big Linda releases it, and then she squats above me, masturbating. After carefully slickening a shapely finger or two in her luscious body's own sweet, plentiful pussy juices, she suddenly gives an eager growl of anticipation and moves into place.

Chained out open I can only hang there and watch as she positions herself, kneeling before my vulnerable hole and then sliding those long, lubricated fingers deep inside. Twisting and probing, spreading them apart, she gently coaxes open the sphincter and then guides her big cock in.

Thrusting forward she skewers me, and I cry out, a weird little bleat of mingled pain and pleasure. Once again Big Linda Skrue's thick black cock is stabbing into me, penetrating my body's most private center in a way that only women should have to endure. Yet in spite of my pain, my shame, in spite of my utter humiliation, as usual I feel my violated body respond with its own reluctant sympathy.

This is how it feels to be a woman, I think; a weak, helpless little female, forcibly entered, taken and subdued and suddenly filled by the hard spike of her violator's need. The breathless, demanding urgency of that need is rammed deliberately into me, right in my face, over and over again, and deep inside my secret soul something shamefully eager leaps up in response.

Whether psychological aberration or ancient genetic ghost, my brutal rapist puts me in touch with my need as always, forcing me to admit, to comply, to accept once and for all that whatever my mistress requires of me, I must ultimately be. The dominant, overwhelming femininity of Big Linda Skrue eclipses me, demanding conformity, demanding that I become the tender, virginal young lesbian she truly lusts for. And despite a happy, fulfilling lifetime of confident male heterosexuality, I slip easily, willingly into the required role.

I close my eyes, and in seconds my tender, gaping asshole becomes a hungry cunt, and my swollen nipples harden and ache with feminine arousal. I imagine myself suddenly fertile, and Big Linda's hard cock shooting burning spurts of life up into me. Suddenly yearning for the hurt of my necessary violation, I strain at the chains, flexing my biceps and spreading myself even wider, drawing up my shackled legs and raising my hips higher and higher to meet each of those wonderfully savage, penetrating thrusts. And still my Big Linda pounds forcefully away, jack-hammering into me like a big-boy stud-dog bullcock.

Oooooooh, goddamn her! I begin moaning, groaning, even yelping out with pleasure, and the harder my mistress uses me the wider I stretch, welcoming each potent stroke of that vicious, bull-dyke lesbian onslaught. But then suddenly my rude education in the joys and duties of womanhood begins in earnest, when something both hard and hot and yet velvety soft gently nudges my lips.

Startled, I open my eyes, and I'm immediately confronted by a close-up, upside-down view of my own bobbing, straining, thickly swollen cock.

Staring uneasily at that open-eye-holed, purple-red mushroom stick, I lick my lips, almost unconsciously, then I raise my reluctant gaze, past Big Linda's own plunging cock and pistoning hips, past the jiggling weight of her enormous womanly breasts and finally up into her sneering face. I know what she expects of me here, and I'm not disappointed.

"Do it, Slut-boy!" she shouts down at me. "You know you want to! Do it now, damn you! You suck that fucking cock like a good little slut-slave, or so help me god, I'll whip you bloody and then jerk it off right into your stupid face! You know I will!"

And of course I do. By now I know better than to even dream of challenging the will of Big Linda Skrue, and so I strain my arms even more, drawing up the taut chains and raising my hips that last necessary inch or so. Then, with only a moment's hesitation, I take my throbbing, burning cock into my very own mouth.

My lips can barely reach it, slipping just over the sensitive plum of the head to clamp down onto the pulsing shaft. Nevertheless I obey the implicit command in B'Linda's nod and glare and start swirling it with my tongue, exploring exciting new tastes and textures even as I wildly stimulate that soft, bulbous little head.

Soon I'm finding it good, from both sides of the coin, and I start attacking that hot fucking cock like a living lolly-pop, using my slippery lips and tongue to worry it relentlessly around and around and around, then plunging it deeper and pulling and pulling and pulling with my cheeks, sucking and slurping and swallowing and making wet, cock-sloppy love to myself like a world-class champion dicksucker.

Oh, man, what on Earth's happening to me? Grunting and groaning, slavering involuntarily I suckle myself, unable to stop, my cheeks pursing rhythmically, tirelessly. As usual those cheeks burn with shame, so hot and flushed with blood that my scalp tingles as well, until finally I'm dizzy with ecstasy, almost swooning with the horrible, guilty pleasure of auto-fellatio.

Surely, indulging in this forbidden joy damns me forever as a man, yet for now I don't even care. I've got a hot, tasty mouthful of cock, and as a willingly transformed woman I can't resist the delicious, incredible sensations of servicing someone's dangerously hard and horny penis with my most intimate orifice. After all, I've never been fucked in the face before, and fucked I now most definitely am.

As I eagerly, enthusiastically suckle myself, Big Linda's constant, plunging anal rhythm continues to rock my body, nudging that fat purple cap deliciously in and out and in and out of my tightly pursed lips, giving me and getting me the ultimate blow-job of a lifetime. Whimpering, moaning with joy, I fall even more recklessly in love with this wonderful new pleasure with every passing stroke.

I can't believe it! If only I'd been chained up like this before! I'd've given anything. Delighted with my good fortune I suck harder, harder, my hot cock slipping and throbbing in my mouth, and soon I can taste my body's own sweet pre-come, gradually bleeding out from the oozing tip to reward my laboring tongue.

Of course I eagerly suck it up, smacking and slurping and loving it, feeding like a tender yet slutty young virgin on my very first oral ingestion.

Surely my eyes gleam with appreciation, even as the heat of my shame doubles in my burning cheeks and my head once again swims giddily with arousal. Then I don't know if the signs of my gladly eating myself are apparent or what, but suddenly Big Linda Skrue snarls in vindication, and she drops forward, catching the headboard with her hands and dangling her mammoth tits above me.

Stabbing her long, hard staff brutally up into me, she buries it to the hilt in my hole and uses it to lever my ass even higher in the air, further contorting my body and forcing my stiffly swollen cock at least halfway down my now suddenly uncomfortably filled throat. Then Big Bad Linda balances herself there on palms and toes and starts slamming her body down, pounding into my upraised asshole like a demon possessed.

Unbelievable. The two pricks fuck me in rhythmic unison, and between the hard one brutally rocking and rolling and reaming me out and the hot, throbbing one sliding deliciously through my thick-slippery lips, my jiggling balls tingle wildly, warning of an upcoming uncontrollable orgasm.

Still I stretch myself wider, taking them both deeper, deeper, slobbering uncontrollably, gagging and sucking and strangling on my own hot meat. Still the guilty flush of my arousal shames my skewered face, and with a big hard dildo coring me out and the soft head of my own hot cock rubbing urgently against the back of my throat, I finally once again raise my eyes from the bouncing, flopping spectacle of Big Linda's heavy breasts to meet the fevered glare of her gas-light blue-eyed gaze.

Exalted by the sight of me choking on my own male meat -- ample evidence of the supreme power she wields over me -- Big Linda's lovely sapphire eyes are ablaze with passion, and the stimulating sight of her violent transport finally sets me off.

I stop flexing and jerk back, collapsing in my bonds a bare fraction of a second before my spasming cock ejaculates. Held in place by the headboard, there's nowhere for me to turn in my anxious ecstasy but uselessly back and forth, waiting an eternity in that one split-second of delicious dread. And then of course the inevitable happens.

Ahhh, goddess! Gobbet after hot, creamy white gobbet spurts forcefully out of me, slapping wetly against my lips and chin and cheeks, soaking me and filling my nostrils with the bland, spermy odor of spunk. Gasping for breath in the sudden stench, I even feel salty drops of it land on my tongue, and I shudder uncontrollably. My complete, utter degradation is mind-bogglingly extreme, and so of course my explosive orgasm never felt so good.

As hot, thick clots of my come leap and splat against my very own face, slowly dribbling and running all over me, Big Linda screams in vindicated triumph, reveling in my incredibly comprehensive defilement. Then with a snarl of savage exultation she grabs my hair, holding my head tightly in place and delivering a final succession of especially deep, painfully grinding thrusts -- powerfully rotating penetrations that use my own half-hard, sticky-wet cock to smear the thick come in and around and all over my humiliated, hotly burning features. Then at last she pushes contemptuously away from me, sliding out of my aching ass and climbing off the bed.

Ignoring my groveling pleas for release, she sits there and smokes, eyeing me coolly. But finally she finishes, stubbing out the butt and returning to the bed. She leans over me, and without a word she begins slowly licking me off, her warm wet tongue ignoring my lips and cheeks and chin and instead patiently scouring the limp, dangling length of my cock.

Leaving most of my load to dry into a humiliating, incriminating glaze on my face, Big Mistress Linda cleans my penis professionally, taking her time to milk me of any leftovers.

Naturally her tongue is much more educated than mine, and soon her attentions have me twitching and swelling and growing hard. Still she works me, licking and pumping and rubbing and sucking on my resilient prick and balls until I'm once again eye to eye with a fully erect penis. Then she abruptly forces it back into my mouth and re-positions herself before my aching hole.

Looking down at me, Big Linda Skrue smiles cruelly, and says, "That was pretty good, Cocksucker. I like the way you look with a stinking hot load splattered all over your stupid face. But I think a slutty little cocksucker like you ought to learn to eat that filthy come, so we're going to do it again, for as long as it takes you to get off. And this time you're going to swallow it. Get it? Every... last... drop!"

And with that Big Linda rears back and plunges into me again.

davesmistress

06-24-2006, 08:49 PM

Wow....what an extrodinary story......Man could I see that guys anguish...Excellent find....great flow.....Awesome story